The Beginning of the End
by only-because3
Summary: Before today, she was perfect. *READ WARNING FIRST*


**Title:** The Beginning of the End  
><strong>Author:<strong> only_becuase3/jeytonbrucasnaley  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 3374  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Uh... 1x04? Technically this is pre-show...  
><strong>Warning:<strong> Extremely dark themes. I'm also 99% certain this is some form of molesation  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Before today, she was perfect  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Happy Halloween! So, I totally planned on writing a happy, fluffy oneshot to post with this one as this is incredibly dark, but the day got away from me. Plus, school has been crazy (and really fucking with my writing mojo, hence the lack of updates with everything else). But, here's a oneshot that I started a while ago and finished up tonight. Sort of goes with the 'horror' bit of Halloween, but not because it's gory or there's some sort of murder. Just illustrates the disgusting nature human beings can posses. Sad story is, that this actually happened to my grandmother when she was about 16. Not too sure as to her father's motives, but this exact situation played out (except the parts pertaining to the bible... At least to my knowledge didn't happen). Enjoy?

* * *

><p>"Take off your clothes."<p>

It's 5:42 on a Tuesday in August and nothing about her day went okay. Sue seemed extra evil during practice, she got a C on her Chemistry test, and Finn had spent the entire day taking care of stupid Glee business. On top of this, Santana called her fat when she were changing in the locker room and even went as far as pinching the skin on her hip to prove her point. She thinks that's the reason she let Puck drive her home, crack open a wine cooler, and slip between her legs.

It's not Puck who says this to her.

He left ten minutes ago to give her enough time to clean herself up and get dressed before her parents came home at their usual six o'clock. She had been in the process of pulling her hair back in her regulation ponytail when he knocked on the door, staggering in while her mother laughed behind him. For a split second, she thinks she can get away with it. She's redressed and, though the bed is still a little messy, the sheets and blankets lay flat on her bed. There are no visible marks on her, that had been the first thing she checked for when Puck left, and she knows how to not look guilty. Then Quinn takes a better look at herself in the vanity. Her lips are red, her brow still a little sweaty, and she notices one empty wine cooler bottle on the floor next to the bed.

Her mother's face goes blank while his face drops into a glare and she can see the way he begins to grind his teeth.

She doesn't know what she opens her mouth to say. It doesn't matter because he actually says that to her, and she can do nothing but part her lips and stare at him stupidly. Quinn knows that she didn't misunderstand him because her father enunciates everything. In the 16 years she's been alive, she's never heard him mumble and even when he drinks, his words are crisp.

"Russell," her mother says quietly, the hand that his her mouth now going to rest on his upper arm. He turns to look at her, whispers something that Quinn can't hear even though it's completely silent. She takes her eyes off them, instead looking at her own reflection as her arms rest at her sides, her blonde hair left unsightly at her shoulders and her cross gleams against her shiny skin.

Before today, she was perfect. She was the good child. Her sister had been a little wild in high school (though, to Quinn's knowledge, remained a virgin until she at least went to college) and because of that, had to go to mass five times a week. Their father signed her up for Sunday school and Quinn can vaguely remember the two of them going into his den where he would test Paige on the bible. She hated doing all of this but Quinn never understood why. She happily went to church three times a week. Quinn knew all the books of the bible, in order, by heart. She got amazing grades, had a great social standing at school, was captain of the Cheerios and only a sophomore. She even started the _celibacy_ club! In every way shape and form, she was the golden child. She doesn't know what it's like to let their parents down and she has no idea what to expect now, especially given that her father just said that.

Paige never talked to her about her punishment, partly because Paige was seven years older and didn't want to talk to her kid sister, and partly because Quinn thought she deserved it. Her sister was straying from their family and from God. A little extra time studying her faith was what she needed. Plus, Paige had a habit of being dramatic. When Quinn used to hear her crying late at night, she never really thought anything of it. After all, their father was a good man who loved and provided for his family. Yes, he has a bit of a temper, more so when he drank, but, up until that point, Quinn never saw that anger directed at her mother, her sister, or herself.

He's standing behind her now and even though she knows he expects eye contact, she keeps her eyes focused on her own reflection. To put it simply, she looks terrified. She was expecting a lecture full of bible quotations, a string of words like sinner and whore that would hurt, but not break her. She wasn't expecting that.

She lets her eyes close for a moment, only to feel guilt weigh down heavily on her chest. Not only did she have sex before marriage, she had sex with Noah Puckerman who was _not_ her boyfriend. And even before today's descent into the first ring of hell, she believed that her sister deserved whatever punishment she received at the hand of their father without a second thought. Her father's hand is on her shoulder, fingers digging painfully into her skin and she knows that she was wrong. When her sister cried, she should have done something. She should have asked her what was wrong. When they went alone into his den, she should have told someone.

"Russell." Judy's voice is less shocked than before, a little rough around the edges. It's not nearly alarmed as it should be given the circumstances, but then Quinn realizes that there was no one she could have told. She opens her eyes and despite the fact that she can feel her father's blue eyes imprinting her skin, she looks to her mother, who stands rigid in the doorway, one hand gripping the doorframe while the other holds on to the Polaroid camera that used to belong to Grandpa Fabray, for help.

There was no one she could have told to help her sister, and there will be no one to help her after this.

Her eyes fall back on her and she finds herself physically shaking. It's strange, almost. When Puck was here she trembled beneath him, tried not to let guilt overwhelm her. She was scared because it hurt, because he wasn't her boyfriend, and she was so certain that God was going to somehow smite her for spreading her legs. But then it felt good, it felt _really_ good and he was so nice to her. He didn't paw at her, he paid attention to her. He was _there_. After was hard. Everything suddenly became too much and she was glad to see him go so quickly.

She would give anything to have him here now.

"Do as I say, Quinn." Her shoulder aches and the tears well up in her eyes before she can even think to stop them.

"Daddy," she pleads, finally locking eyes with him in the mirror. She has never feared her father before, never had a reason to, but she knows without a doubt, that she is completely fucked. She doesn't move to get up and his hand curls around the fabric of her Cheerio top. He pulls her to her feet with very little help from her own body, pushing her to the foot of her bed where she stumbles a little and Judy has the decency to gasp when she does so.

"What is the 19th book of the new testament, Quinn?"

She blinks and straightens so that she stands with perfect posture. "Hebrews."

He nods and walks over to her bedside table where he snatches her bible. He flips through it slowly, fat finger outlining each verse and she looks over at her mother. There's tears in her eyes too but she doesn't move from the doorway, won't even allow her heel to step foot in to her room. Quinn's eyes catch sight of the camera again and her face twists, tears trailing down her cheeks and pooling at her chin before dropping to her top. "Hebrews 13:4," he bellows, stabbing his finger over the verse as he begins to circle her. "Do you know what verse I'm talking about?" He waits for an answer but her voice is trapped in her throat and he sidles up next to her, making a show of pointing out the verse. "Marriage is honorable in all, and the bed undefiled: but _**whoremongers**_ and _adulterers_ God will judge." The bible shakes in his hands until it's pulled from her sight and he moves back, giving her room to breathe before the wind is knocked out of her. The leather bible hits her square between the shoulders and she gasps but holds her feet in place. Her fingers clutch the pleats of her skirt, knuckles white by the time her father speaks to her again. "Pick up the bible for your father, Quinn." She turns slowly and swallows thickly as she crouches down, trying to keep her legs together the best she can but finding that there's an ache she had forgotten about since her parents walked in. "Are you in pain?"

"Yes," she whispers, running her nails over the old letter on the outside of her worn copy of the bible. She begins to stand back up but then her father's hand is back on her shoulder, squeezing and pushing her down.

"On your knees, Quinn. It's time for a test." She looks up at him helplessly and she doesn't understand how he can look down at her with a smile. "Judy," he starts, still looking at his daughter, "Be a dear and go fix me a drink and wait in the living room."

"Ru-"

The smile drops and he draws his face up in a way that reminds Quinn of the depictions of Satan she's seen in books. "Leave the camera and go downstairs Judy," he growls and her mother simply nods, taking her first step into Quinn's room and holding the camera out for her father to take. "Shut the door behind you." She does as she's told and the clicking of the doorknob sounds like a gunshot. He runs a hand through his greasy hair as he sits himself down on the edge of her bed, elbows resting on his knees. "You know the bible very well, don't you Quinn? You read it more often than your sister. Can you recite Galatains 5:19 from memory?"

"Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these," she starts, closing her heavy eyes as she tries to recall the rest of the verse. A whine escapes the back of her throat and she flinches when her father pushes her hair out of her face.

"Read it to me if you can't remember the rest."

She nods and flips open the bible in front of her. "Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these. Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness." She looks up at him only for him to jut his chin towards the bible.

"Galatains 5:21. The ending."

She takes a deep breath, her back hurting as her ribs expand. "Of which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God."

"You're nothing but a goat now. No longer a lamb like your mother or your sister, or me." He reaches forward and picks up the book, flipping through the pages once more. "Twelfth book of the bible?"

"Colossians."

He smiles at her again. "So much better than your sister." She feels sick. "Here it is. 'Mortify therefore your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry. For which things' sake the wrath of God cometh on the children of disobedience.' Do you know what this means, Quinnie?"

She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, tasting salt on her lips as she stares at her father. "I have to be punished," she mumbles and she feels a calloused hand on her chin instantly.

"Speak _clearly_."

She rolls her shoulders back and drops her lip. "I have to be punished."

"Stand up." She's slow to do so and he fists a hand in her hair to aid her in the process. He notices she bites back a yelp and loosens his grip once she gets on her feet. "You've been such a good girl before this moment, Quinn. That's why I won't be as hard on you as I was with Paige, _if_ you do as I say right now. Understood?" Her nod is restrained. "You will attend church four times a week until the end of the year. You will volunteer in Sunday school until Thanksgiving. You will reaffirm yourself to God at the chastity ball in the winter. You will take off your clothes right now and show me your shame." She shouldn't but her mouth opens in protest but he shakes his head. "I can make this worse, Quinn. You had no problem stripping down for some heathen earlier today. You can not hide your sin from me or God with clothing."

She sways slightly, head light as she screws her eyes shut, her hand gripping the small slippery zipper at her hip. She drags it up and it only catches once before it stops near the top of her ribs. "Go on, Quinn." Her body deflates, the starchy red fabric going over her head before landing on the carpet next to her feet. There's a flash she can see even with her eyes closed and when she opens them, her father's pulling a brown Polaroid from the camera. "The lord will forgive you for your sin but He won't forget what you did today. He knows that you have dirtied the very sheets I sit on, that you have ruined the host that He has graced you with. The body is not for fornication, but for the Lord."

"_Daddy_." She's certain he's going to stop. He's a rational man and this is… Her dad shouldn't be doing this to her. This shouldn't be happening. "I'm sorry. I shouldn-"

"_Sorry_ doesn't cut it. I don't think you understand the severity of your sin," he yells, waving the Polaroid around unconsciously and she can see herself fade into the white frame as the brown retreats the more exposed it becomes. "What you did was filthy and vile but I'm not sure you realize that. And if you don't realize your sin for what it is, then how is God supposed to know that you won't give in to temptation again? How am I supposed to know you won't become like that Lopez girl?" He rests his elbows on his knees, free hand running over his mouth and chin as she swallows hard. "Tell me, do you feel disgusting?"

"Yes," she chokes out honestly. She folds her arms over her chest in an effort to cover herself, only for her father to reach forward and slap the skin of her elbow.

"If your mother and I hadn't come home earlier, would you still feel this disgusting?" He stands up and his hot breath hits her face. All she can smell is scotch and her stomach churns when she starts crying harder.

"No."

"You would have just gone about your day. You would have had dinner with your parents, went on with your life like you weren't going to burn in the depths of hell because of what you did. Not only did you _fuck_ someone, but you were going to lie to us. That's two sins against you, Quinn." He shakes his head and then reaches for Quinn's cross. She flinches before she can stop herself and her eyes widen instantly. She apologizes quickly, biting hard on her bottom lip as she squirms under his stare. "What? Did you think I was going to hit you?" She shakes her head quickly, gaze dropping to the floor as her father circles her. "Did you think I was going to _touch_ you?" Did she? She wasn't sure what to think of her father anymore. "I'm not doing this because I want to see you like this. You're my daughter. And as you're father, I'm supposed to protect you. And that means punishing you now so that you're not condemned to eternal damnation." He wraps the chain around his finger and then pulls hard, the necklace burning her skin. "Did you honestly think that I was as _disgusting_ as you?"

She shakes her head, eyes closing when she can't stop crying. "I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry." He twists the chain in his hand and Quinn feels the slim chain break on the back of her neck.

"Are you ready to accept your punishment like a good girl, or do I need to think of a harsher punishment?" She swallows hard and he takes a step back, lowing himself back down on the bed. He picks up the camera, watching carefully as her hands move behind her back. Pale fingers clutch the zipper but she's shaking so bad that it only moves a few centimeters before catching.

"I'm _trying_," she cries before he can berate her and he barely nods before covering his face with the camera. When she gets the zipper all the way down, she stares at her father, blinking wildly when the flash goes off. Her head lolls back, eyes screwed shut but tears somehow still slip down her cheeks, and she lightly tugs on the pleats until the skirt falls to her feet. She can't breathe and each flash feels like a punch to the chest.

"The faster you go, the faster this is over with."

Bile rises in her throat as she squeezes the clasp of her bra. Another flash once her bra joins the rest of her abandoned clothes and she's honestly surprised her father doesn't tell her to drop her hands when she covers her face. He gives her a minute to catch her breath, not that it helps, because she's already started hyperventilating. "One more to go Quinn." His voice is unusually soft and it scares her that he almost sounds like her daddy again and not her father.

She shoves her underwear down but doesn't step out of them, instead lets them hook at her ankles. She clutches on to her thighs, grimacing at the fact that she can, before she starts gagging. Her eyes remain shut through one flash but then her father clears his throat. "Look at the camera, Quinn." She does as she's told but she can't make out the image of her father. Everything is distorted by tears that fall only once the flash goes off. "Good girl. You can get dressed again."

She's quick to pull up her underwear but she leaves the rest of her clothes on the carpet, turning instead to her closet and wrapping her robe around her. She lets her forehead drop to the door and she finally lets out a sob. The noise that escapes her is foreign to her; something she's only heard in what she thought were overly dramatized Lifetime movies. But it's sharp and pathetic and the breath scratches the back of her throat. She curls into herself as best she can, pressing her robe against her skin tightly. It doesn't seem like enough, doesn't cover enough of her and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, biting until she tastes iron.

Her father presses a kiss in her hair. "You don't have to eat dinner with us tonight. Just make sure you say your prayers before bed."

She doesn't move, even when she hears the door open and shut behind her. She stays, shaking against her closet door for hours. She stays there until she finally stops crying, dropping down on her bed sometime near 1 am.

She side steps her tainted clothes and tries not to notice the polaroids her father stuck in the mirrors of her vanity as she moves her bible back to it's place. It's the first time Quinn doesn't pray before bed. Her eyes are swollen and when she shuts them, she sees her father and wishes she could scream.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I do want to make it clear that Russell wasn't getting off on what he was making Quinn do. I wasn't sure how to not make it incredibly pedophillic and just crazy religious. Those were his motivations. He just wanted to 'save' his daughter and thought this was the best course of punishment (not that that's any sort of excuse).


End file.
